Transfer Function
by aria0205
Summary: Moviefic that goes AU post first HK assault. Timelines and canon futzed with. Pseudoscience and rookie ranger problems. The Marshal always used to warn Mako about men like Raleigh Becket.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Transfer Function  
Author: teagrl83  
Pairing: Mako/Raleigh  
Rating: PG-13, eventual M

The Marshal used to warn Mako about men like Raleigh Becket. Reckless men who had the world in the palm of their hand until one day everything was gone. Then they'd be even more reckless.

Reckless men die.

"You're not reckless," Mako would say.

"No, and I'm alive." The Marshal did not miss a beat. "I'd like you to stay that way too."

"I don't think he's reckless," Mako speaks up after the Marshal has given her permission to enter his quarters.

"Who?"

"Raleigh Becket. I don't think he's reckless anymore."

He continues looking at his reports.

"The loss of his brother ... it changed him. I think he'll be more cautious now."

"Mm." The Marshal doesn't look up from the stack of papers. "Good."

"It's not," she says somewhat stridently, and the Marshal looks up.

He leans back in a deceptively relaxed posture. "Why wouldn't his new caution be a positive development? Couldn't it be a sign that he has matured?"

Mako lowers her eyes. She knows he's testing her. She's used to it, even looks forward to it most days.

"A pilot flies through instinct," she recites. "A pilot needs to follow their nature. They need to mold their nature in accordance to the needs of the battle."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of Marshal Stacker Pentecost's lips. He folds his hands on the desk, interlacing his fingers. "That's a theory, anyway."

"Your theory," Mako is smiling herself.

"But what does it have to do with Mr. Becket?" he prods.

"I choose the candidates based on that principle." She grows more serious as she continues. "Cadets that err on the side of caution to balance him out. But if that's not Mr. Becket anymore..."

"Are you saying you made a mistake?"

She shakes her head. "No, just that I'm...less certain of my choices now."

"Then we'll just have to see, tomorrow."

Mako can't sleep, so she walks down to the Kwoon combat room and goes through several iado forms. She has just begun to break a sweat when she feels someone watching her. In one of the standard moves she turns around and smoothly practices a sheathing move.

Becket whistles. "You're good at that."

She lowers her eyes and smiles. "Thank you."

"You were showing off."

The smile leaves her lips and she looks up. "I-I wasn't!" she stammers.

He raises his hands. "Okay, okay, sorry." A beat of silence passes between them. "Not...not even a little?" he presses lightly.

"Maybe a little," she concedes, inwardly cringing. She doesn't quite know why she admits this. She turns to leave the room.

"You flunked me on a character assessment just a few hours ago and now you're embarrassed?" Mako can hear the humor in his voice.

She doesn't turn around, but she stops. "You asked what I thought. I told you."

"And you knew I was watching. You sure you're not one of the candidates?"

She shakes her head. "Good night, Mr. Becket."

Ralei—Becket, she corrects mentally- starts knocking on her door scarcely ten minutes after the Marshal dismissed her. Mako considers simply not opening, but the knocks get increasingly louder and show no signs of stopping.

She's been crying like she hasn't in years and hating every minute of it. To make it worse, there's all sorts of random images, textures, feelings that she doesn't recognize in her head.

Mako lets the knocking continue for about a minute, until she hears some annoyed cries from the neighboring rooms.

She opens the door mid-knock, his hand frozen maybe a foot above her head. A muscle twitches in his cheek. "Thought maybe you were ignoring me or something."

She sits and crosses her arms over her chest. "I was."

He looks genuinely confused. "Why?"

"Because I'm fine. That's what you came for, right? To see how I'm doing?"

"Yeah, Mako—"

"I don't need you protecting me," she snaps in Japanese. "Not to that asshole, and especially, not to the Marshal. And I don't need you taking responsibility for things that are _my_ fault."

"It wasn't your—"

She switches to English and gestures to the door. "Thank you for coming to check on me, Mr. Becket."

He smiles humorlessly and reaches for her wrist. "Listen, Mako, we—"

Mako breaks the hold easily and slams her open palm against his chest, pushing him back a step. "Out."

Her expression must convince him, because he goes through the doorway. He turns to say something, but she slams the door before he can so much as open his mouth.

Mako wonders if it's the lingering effects of the drift that push her to the Marshal's quarters near midnight. She feels like a walking tangle of nerves as she knocks twice. His voice invites her in.

He's still pouring over reports. She can count on one hand the times she's found him idle.

"I didn't get a chance to apologize," she says. Mako closes her eyes and bows deeply. Part of her wants to touch her forehead against the floor, but the Marshal would think it too much. It'd make him uncomfortable. "Moushiwake gozaimasen." The words come out cracked.

"I told you it was my mistake," the Marshal says. "You're too inexperienced to control your memories in the drift."

"I disappointed you."

The Marshal's hands are at her forearms, gently pulling her up. "Don't say unnecessary things," he murmurs in Japanese. The words have a bite to them, but he follows them up in English. "You don't disappoint me, ever. Experience can be gained."

She looks up at him in surprise.

"Now, I'm not saying it will be the next kaiju, but Becket's not wrong about you."

"Maybe I learned from the best." She stifles a smile at the praise.

The Marshal ducks his head. "Maybe. But it's late, Miss Mori, and I fully expect a report on the test run today by mid-morning tomorrow."

All impulse to smile is gone at the thought. "Yes, sir."

Mako gets to the mess hall late, but the report is on the Marshal's desk. She steps into an awkwardly silent room with her tray, Becket opposite of her, holding his own. The look on his face is two-thirds sullen, one-third hopeful. She approaches slowly.

"I know of a better place to sit," she says loud enough for everyone to hear and strides out with her tray.

The Gipsy Danger comes into view and she looks over to Becket. "Is this okay?" she asks.

He nods, eyes drawn to his—their jaeger. "This is…great."

She sits by the edge and stabs a straw into the juice carton.

"Are you still angry?" he asks.

Mako looks up. "I'm not angry. It's enough that the Marshal…worries about me. I don't need to have you worry too. I shouldn't have snapped. I was just…frustrated."

He nods, but says, "You're my copilot, worrying is kind of part of the job." He catches her narrowed eyes and laughs. "I get it. I get it. No worrying. Next time you want to deck Chuck on my behalf, have at it."

She smiles. "You're a good guy, Raleigh."

He chuckles at that, but turns serious. "What I wanted to say last night is that I'm sorry. I should have warned you, first drifts are rough. You weren't just tapping into my memories. You were also tapping into my brother's."

Mako knows. She's tried not to give the drift too much thought outside the cockpit. It seems too intrusive otherwise. She's always been good at compartmentalizing.

Turns out it _is_ the next kaiju contrary to what the Marshal said. With the comms in all but the Gipsy Danger shot due to kaiju evolution, the Marshal has no choice.

It's everything Mako dreams of. In the end, there's a kaiju shot open and another sliced in half. The whole hangar claps for them, the Marshal says he's proud, but the clock is reset.

Her whole body aches, but the adrenaline coursing through her makes it all seem like a fever dream.

She changes and goes to knock on Raleigh's door, fully intending to announce that this time he should do the paperwork for the mission. He opens on the first knock, having traded the flight suit for pants, but lacking a shirt. Somehow she ends up kissing him and his lips are softer than she expected.

"Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but what was that?" he asks, confused.

She shakes her head, wishing she was braver. "You talk too much," is all she ends up saying before she leaves.

Mako ends up writing the report.

The next mission doesn't go quite as smoothly.

The kaiju are evolving faster than the scientists can predict. The Gipsy takes twice as long in taking down the second, and it almost destroys a civilian camp.

It's the elder Hansen, who does their debrief, short and brutal.

"Unacceptable, rangers" he says. "Somewhere between the first mission and this one, your timing is off. For both of you. We can't afford that. One more miss and there would have been thousands of casualties. The Marshal wants a full account of what went wrong. And if we can ground you for the next kaiju, we will. We're the last defense remaining. The whole world is watching."

Mako trudges beside Raleigh on the way back to their corridor, mentally going over the fight.

"It's me," Raleigh says quietly. "I hesitated too much."

She figured as much. "I should have balanced you out. But with your experience…your calculations seemed sound. Conservative, but sound."

"You thought you could give me the benefit of the doubt." He's grim when he says it. "Guess you can't."

Mako nods. She speaks without thinking, "Would you like to do a simulation?"

He laughs without any humor. "A simulation?" It dawns on her it could be an indignity for someone of his experience.

"I'm so—"

He waves the apology away. "No, if you think that would help, sure."

Mako doesn't mention simulations again. They don't go out in the next mission, but in the one after that, Crimson Typhoon has a hard time with a category four and they're strapping in.

They're in the drift and Mako feels Raleigh's concern, his uncertainty.

"Sorry," he says out loud.

_It's not necessary._Unlike him, she prefers not to speak when the drift is initiated. Me, you and the Gipsy Danger are one. I can be sure for all of us.

They arrive just in time to see the kaiju pick up a building, about to slam it on the jaeger prostrate below. They grab the kaiju by the neck and the building collapses on top of it. The creature screams, falling back. The Gipsy takes a defensive position in front of Crimson Typhoon.

"Gotta get it away from her!" Raleigh yells out. They guide the Gipsy forward, landing several blows on the kaiju.

_Not enough distance_

The kaiju screeches, opening its cavernous mouth.

"If it barfs up acid, we're in trouble." She latches onto an image in his mind: severing the kaiju's tongue. The acid would hurt the wound, make it hard for the kaiju to spit it out without pain.

_Dental work?_

Mako feels his smile. "Dental work."

They bring out the sword, controls reducing it to rapier length. The kaiju darts forward and they reach to grab its snout. It all seems too convenient.

"No, Mako! If its skin is too tough it gets the advantage! We're too close!"

_On my count._

She feels Raleigh temper his irritation, feels him fall into line, a single push of purpose melding with her own. The thrust was a perfect synchrony of force as the rapier hits the roof of the creature's toothy mouth. At the background, Mako feels it yank her shoulder, pulling her forward. She continues pushing the blade in, over the eruption of pain at her shoulder, the snaps of light in her vision.

"Sword!" she screams out and the A.I. extends the blade. Gravity does its work and the sword tears through bone and muscle as the Gipsy falls, letting all of its weight crash on top of it. She ends up propped up by the sword, breathing hard, with the kaiju prone below.

Mako's nerves are still on edge as she pulls out the blade, wincing as it jars her shoulder.

"Crimson Typhoon, report," Tendo's voice blares through the comm. "Give me a full extent run down of the damages?"

Static for a couple of seconds. "We're going to need pilot extraction level 2. Cheung will make it, but he's…not good."

Level 2. Critical condition.

The voice continues detailing a long list of damages to the jaeger. "Crimson will probably be out for a while. Sorry."

The frustration bubbles inside her. The kaiju are increasingly dangerous, their attacks multiplying, they can't possibly, _can't possibly_ afford to have a mecha out that long. People will die. _They're the only line of defense_ and no one else is helping! _They're watching, just watching us die. Watching!_

"Watching them come close to dying while they dream fairy tales of bullshit walls—"

"Gipsy! Gipsy! What are you doing, Gipsy!"

It's the blinding pain from her shoulder that brings her back, and she realizes she's been hacking away at the dead kaiju. Its head is severed from its massive body. She stabs it clean through. Lifts it up, with a pained yell over the throb.

"What else do they need?" she screams. "What the fuck do they need?"


	2. Chapter 2

Raleigh dashes to her side, putting his hand over her arm. Without the drift, the pain flares back up again.

"Could be a dislocation," he murmurs.

"I hope not," she manages to squeeze out between gritted teeth, steadying herself.

The Marshal is waiting for them in the drivesuit room, and she knows it's not going to be good. "Any particular reason why you felt compelled to put on a show, Rangers?"

Her arm has begun to feel a little numb and she moves it experimentally. The pain cuts her through her breathing and she narrowly keeps herself from wincing. She focuses on the Marshal's stern expression.

"It looked," the Marshal continues. "Like loss of control. I shouldn't have to remind either of you that this is a problem in a two thousand ton Jaeger!" He lowers his voice. "Both of you - of all people - should know you're not in control of infinite resources. You won't so much as step into a Jaeger conn-pod until further notice!" His gaze zeroes in on Mako's arm and her stomach sinks. "The readings indicated a mild arm injury."

"Yes, sir," she says.

"And still you decide on theatrics. You looked like children, not Rangers. Medical bay is expecting you. Dismissed!"

"Sir?" Raleigh says tentatively.

"What?"

"Cheung. How's he doing?"

"He's alive."

"Can he pilot?" Raleigh presses and Mako holds her breath.

"Not for a while." The pressure in her chest eases up a bit at the news. "Is that all?"

"Yes, sir."

Raleigh follows her to medical bay, uncharacteristically silent. They x-ray her shoulder, give her painkillers, and have her lie down while they go look at the results.

"You're not going to say anything?" she says when she and Raleigh are alone. She means to make her tone light, like last time, but it comes out off somehow, strained. "I'm not in your head anymore, so…"

His smile is fatigued. "Painkillers help some?"

She makes an exasperated sound and says in Japanese, "You're avoiding the subject."

His expression becomes tight. "I'm not. I just don't think that now is the time to hash it out."

Mako switches to English and sits up using her good arm, pain blasts from her shoulder and she winces. "Hash what out?"

He sighs and sits on the edge of the cot, shifting to face her. "The drift amplifies the good and the bad. You tapped into my head, saw what my brother saw and it threw you off. I tapped into yours and you're just adapting to combat stress–" he breaks off and looks away.

Mako stays quiet.

"I felt—feel- like that too," he finally admits, meeting her eyes. "I wanted to rub it in their faces that we succeed where the walls fails. We save people. But it should have been just an impulse."

She nods. "It's my fault."

He mirrors her nod. "I should have checked you, but—"

"You didn't think you'd have to."

His brow furrows. "Didn't think I'd need to. I was blindsided."

Mako looks at her hands. It's not embarrassment, really. Just disappointment, a hollow feeling of insufficiency. Fall seven times, she thinks with a set of her jaw. Rise up eight.

"Seems like we're still getting used to each other," he says gently.

She leans forward slightly on her good arm. "How long do you think it'll take?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, cupping her cheek. His lips brush against her temple and she remembers kissing him. She'd accounted for it through the drift and leftover adrenaline, but when he brings his lips to hers it feels more deliberate than the last time. And reassuring. He pulls away slightly and she blinks, trying to sort out her own mess of feelings from the ghost of him in her head.

He's looking at her as if he can read her thoughts. "Just stress behavior?"

Kissing him is better than dealing with everything, so she chooses that route. She indulges until the throbbing in her shoulder becomes a dull ache leaving her lightheaded and warm. She pulls away slowly.

"Combat stress?" he prods again.

"I don't know." She sighs and lies back on the cot. "After effects of the drift?"

"Maybe. It was with my brother before, so it make sense that it feels ...different this time around. Maybe it's both."

"The affective link is different." Mako tries to think back to her training.

"Stress response can merge with a sexual response," Raleigh says evenly. "After every mission, Yancy would use the free time to fuc- sleep with anything with a pulse. His approach to an adrenaline crash." His expression brightens and he shakes his head. "Not that I wanted to know. Ever."

Mako cocks her head and attempts to focus over the fuzziness at the edge of her vision. Images of a smiling man with Raleigh's eyes surface bracketed by affection bordering on admiration. Not mine, she thinks. Not my memory. She looks up at the ceiling. They must have given her a high dose, since the pain has mostly receded. It's becoming increasingly difficult to untangle her thoughts, but she's able to find her place in the conversation. "And you?"

"Me what?"

It takes her a moment to remember her line of thinking. She fishes it out with pure tenacity. Feels victorious when she does. "Fuck anything with a pulse." The lights overhead seem too bright and she closes her eyes.

Raleigh laughs beside her. "I wanted to. I was eighteen when I enlisted."

"I don't want to have sex with you, Raleigh," Mako mutters, feeling as if she's floating. She hears him snort and turns her head towards him, opening her eyes. He looks like he's trying really hard not to burst out laughing. She should feel annoyed, but it's just a light prick in her newfound state of well-being. "I don't." She's smiling without meaning to. "My shoulder hurts too much."

The arm injury is nothing serious and she has full use of her arm back after a few days, but the adrenaline still hasn't left her system and she throws herself into repairs. New shipments of top-of-the-line material begin arriving at the Shatterdome shortly after the last drop. She furrows her eyebrows as she sees the crews begin to open the shipments while she's going over her Jaeger's diagnostics. Concentration on the details of the Gipsy's system distracts her from feeling as if she can't stand still.

Somewhat. "What's that?" she finally asks Tendo.

He looks over from his screen. "You haven't read the paper?" His voice is tight and she's been avoiding interrupting him for the past day. The first two days he had been in good spirits, attempting to cajole her into taking things easy. After that, he had stopped hiding his irritation at having to deal with both overseeing the distribution of new parts and Mako's unending flurry of new designs. She's wondered more than once how close he is to banning her from mission control.

She shakes her head and he gestures her over impatiently, fingers flying across the keyboard. The page comes up and she covers her mouth instinctively.

It's _them_. The Gipsy, sword held high, kaiju head on it. Below there are block letters: Jaegers Still Best Line of Defense.

She looks back to Tendo who can't help breaking into a grin. "Hell of an image. Kaiju kabob. Chuck is pissed. I kinda want to frame it."

Mako looks out again to the hubbub of activity below. "So does this mean we're we funded again?"

He shakes his head and closes the browser window. "Still private. Just more of it. But if we keep at it, people will be begging their governments to reopen their Shatterdomes. People will be dying there, masses will be moving here. They'll have no choice."

The attack happens the next month and not a moment too soon. Cherno Alpha's new upgrades have just come online, and it makes short work of its attacker in less than half an hour. She watches from mission control, deathly still where she stands. When the kaiju is confirmed dead and the crews set out to retrieve the Kaidanovskys and their Jaeger along a mostly ornamental Striker Eureka, she turns to exit the room.

Raleigh stops her with a hand over her arm just outside mission. "Where are you heading?"

She smiles shakily. "My room. To meditate or something. I—"

"-wish you were out there?"

Mako nods. "It… upsets me." She admits it, knowing it's written all over her and resents him a little for being able to dial the feeling back. You'd never know it if he's just as on edge, Raleigh's been content to do his shifts and spend his time off with the crews. She's been invited more times than she can count, but it's been all she can do to calm herself enough to work. The last thing she needs is Hansen berating her for her rookie nerves. It was enough he kept yammering about the Gipsy's berserker button. Hansen started a whole week after the drop, enough time for the after effects of the drift to lessen, and Raleigh to be back to his easy going self.

She's not envious that he's so centered, Mako tells herself, just grateful no other fights have broken out.

Raleigh is looking at her with concern. "Want to spar it out?"

She shakes her head. "I need to work it out here first." She touches her temple. "But thank you." It occurs to her, he's gone years without seeing combat and she says, "How do you…?"

Raleigh shrugs. "Wanting to be out there never goes away. You just… deal. Some people don't like to be alone, but everyone's different – meditation's good."

"Experience," Mako says. It sounds like a dead end. She's been meditating for weeks now and her restlessness has only gotten worse. "Right."

When they go over the mission a day later, all the pilots are there. Even Cheung comes, although he's still undergoing physical therapy and will be for several more months. It's a heartening sight, but it doesn't change that the Crimson Typhoon was left behind in the hangar when the last kaiju struck- just like the Gipsy.

Mako tries to focus on the footage playing on the screen.

Hansen's scowl is visible even in the dim room. Striker gets there just in time for Cheno to land the killing blow. At this point, Mako's stopped feeling petty for enjoying it.

"Suited up for nothing." Raleigh can't help needling from where he lounges on one of the couches and she bites back a smile.

"At least I was in a drivesuit. How long has it been since you've been close to one?" Hansen snaps.

The footage ends and Mako reaches for the remote to rewind it to a certain frame, tuning out their back-and-forth. She makes a note in her pad and turns around to where the Kaidanovskys are sitting. "Lt. Kaidanovsky, I notice a speed increase. Was that a result of the alloy? Could you feel it in the handling?"

"It is possible, but not probable," Sasha Kaidanovsky replies. "But changes were made to the thermal rocket—those seem the more likely. You should speak to Bashmakov, it was his idea."

Mako jots down the name for later, vaguely noticing the pilots shuffling out. She feels Raleigh lean over to look over her shoulder. He's close enough that she can feel his breath along her cheek.

"The Gipsy is fast enough," he says, straightening up. "You oversaw the installation of the Hyper Torque Drives yourself."

She starts on some rough calculations, drawing from the notes. "There's always room for improvement."

Mako tries to focus on the equation. "Improvement. Like the crazy idea you had to polish her up."

She makes a mistake, and deletes part of the equation. "She was looking a bit…scratched. It was just an idea. And I asked your opinion."

"It's a Jaeger, not a Mustang."

"I know. You told me." The result of her calculations doesn't make sense. That can't be right, she thinks, biting her lip, and erases it. Starts over.

He's looking over her shoulder again. "You forgot the decimal point."

Mako raises her eyes slowly.

He gives a furtive look to the now empty room and lowers his voice. "You're still on edge."

She saves the document and shuts off her pad. "I'm using this time to reflect on my mistakes," she deflects. "And to get the Gipsy Danger ready for our next drop."

"The Gipsy's been ready for our next drop for weeks - you've been driving Tendo crazy. These days, it's like you need a hydrospanner or coffee cup in hand to talk to you."

Mako slides from her seat. "I'm just not interested in cards, or basketball, or—" She breaks off. "Actually, I'm still waiting for the feedback I asked you about the latest specs—"

"I told you—"

"In a written report, Raleigh." She directs herself to the exit with him in tow. "The Marshal requires all communications of note be written and archived."

"Mako," he calls. "Wait, Mako!" He has to hurry his steps to catch up.

She stops and turns around. "And if Mr. Choi has a problem, he can tell me himself."

Raleigh opens his mouth, just as alarms start blaring and they're running to mission control. They join the rush of people, edging their way to the front.

Tendo begins, "Breach was exposed at eighteen hundred hours! We have two signatures again! Category fours! Code names Tengu and Charybdis! They'll reach Hong Kong within the hour."

The Marshal gives his evacuation orders, then turns to the Kaidanovskys and the Hansens. "Cherno Alpha, Striker Eureka, frontline of the harbor. Gipsy Danger - the coastline. Nothing gets through. Let's go!"

Hansen slams into Raleigh's shoulder on his way out. "Look who's getting suited up for nothing now."

Raleigh shakes his head. He and Mako turn to leave.

"One last thing, Gipsy!" the Marshal calls out behind them. "No theatrics."


	3. Chapter 3

Suiting up feels like breathing again. She doesn't have to be in the drift to know that Raleigh feels the same exhilaration.

"It's only shore duty," he says ruefully.

"But it's like—"

"-coming home," he finishes and grins.

Mako beams and they step into the conn-pod.

"Happy to be let out to play?" Choi's voice blares.

Mako presses the comm button. "I heard I was driving you crazy. We should talk later."

"Raleigh!" his voice sounds mock-betrayed. "Can't tell you anything, man."

"Not like she couldn't find out anyway," he retorts. "Release for drop."

The conn-pod slides down to hook up to Gipsy's body. The engine starts, basic systems go. The Gipsy's massive body is pushed out of the Shatterdome's hangar.

Mako hits the comm. "Ready for neural handshake."

"Fifteen…fourteen…" She closes her eyes.

"Anything I should be scared of?"

She smirks at Raleigh without opening her eyes. "You'll know soon, right?"

"And you're not the least bit worried about me stepping into your head."

Mako cracks open an eye. "No. Are you?"

"Neural handshake initiating," the A.I. announces and she inhales as her world shrinks. She's in the Combat Room, bamboo stick in hand and Raleigh across from her, except the perspective shifts and she watches herself launch several strikes. The perspective shifts again and she's back behind her own eyes as he meets them perfectly one by one. The memories slide into one another seamlessly.

Mako's back in the conn-pod, Raleigh at the horizon of her consciousness and the Gipsy strikes a defensive position.

"Calibration complete."

_Welcome back_, she thinks and his humor ruffles through her mind.

"Neural handshake strong and holding."

Off in the distance she sees Cherno take the closest of the kaiju, Charybdis. It looks like an oversized octopus with an evil-looking red eye near the top. Striker goes out further into the sea to meet Tengu. The beaked kaiju's form is like a nightmarish thundercloud in the distance. Every inch of Mako is itching to move forward. The impulse thrums like an electric current, a tingle that starts at her fingertips and spreads through her.

"Easy," Raleigh says and the impulse lessens. "Better?"

Mako assents, eyes on the monitor. She shakes her head. _Taking Charybdis down will take too long_.

Raleigh is right there with her, works the comm. "Striker should stay with Cherno."

"That is a negative," Herc Hansen replies. "We can't let two kaiju this close to the shore."

Cherno doesn't reply, heavily involved in the fight. It's bashing the creature on the head, but Charybdis' tentacles don't let up. They slam into the top of the Jaeger repeatedly. Mako can see the steel denting under the onslaught.

"Oh, shit," Tendo yells. "We have another signature!"

"Look alive, Rangers. We have incoming," Marshal's voice barks. "Striker, you will have visual first."

"Permission to engage, sir!" Mako calls out.

Raleigh slaps keypad, doing a double take at the monitor. "Mission control, something's wrong with my readings—"

"Granted! Nothing's wrong with your readings, Gipsy," the Marshal's voice is grim, but even.

Tendo's voice is less calm. "It's coming from above!"

"What the fuck?" Raleigh mutters as they begin moving towards the melee. The Cherno's in a better position now with the beast in a headlock, but they can't see Striker over the waves Cherno and Charydbis are generating.

_We saw they could fly._ She racks her brain for the range of the plasma canon and the pulse launcher. Her fingers fly over the screen as she runs through estimates.

"Close combat armaments," Raleigh replies to the implicit question. "Won't help if it's airborne."

"Striker, we need your rockets," the Marshal calls. "Cherno, disengage as soon as Gipsy's close."

"Kind of busy here," Chuck's voice comes in after a moment, strained.

"It will be above you in a minute!" the Marshal shouts.

"Coming in hot at your three o'clock!" Tendo's voice joins in.

In front of them, Cherno engages the sparkfists, but the creature slithers away. For a second they lose sight of the Jaeger. They only see Charybdis' tentacles flailing above the sea spray.

"Cherno! Cherno! What's your status?" Raleigh scans the instruments.

"Sparkfist discharged," Aleksis Kaidanovski's voice answers after a beat. "Charybdis stunned. Proceeding to Tengu and Striker."

"Copy that. Happy hunting, Cherno," Raleigh says as Mako loads up the canon.

"Careful, Gipsy." It's Sasha now. "It is a slippery one."

And just as she's finished speaking, a tentacle splashes out towards them, wrapping itself around the Gipsy's arm. They jerk the arm over their shoulder, pulling the creature partially out of the water.

"Sword!" Mako yells out.

"Watch the blue!" Raleigh warns, just as the sword lights up with an electric charge. They slash at the tentacle, leaving a smoking stump.

Improvement.

She feels his grin. "Show off." He fires up the plasma canon.

"Gipsy, can you put a bow on it?" Tendo calls. They can hear the Marshal in the background, talking to the other pilots. "Striker and Cherno need you."

"Aim for the eye!" Raleigh says, continuing to discharge the canon. Several blasts later, the kaiju lies prone and they wade through the ocean to the rest of the jaegers. "Copy. Give me an update, Tendo. What're we going to find over there? Is the flyer down?"

"It's down, but alive. Striker's incurring heavy damages. Cherno's not doing so well either."

They're close enough to see Cherno use sparkfist on the flyer. The creature lets out a deafening cry and collapses, sinking into the ocean.

Tengu, the remaining kaiju, seems to notice from where it's busily smashing its snout against the top of Striker, dangerously close to the conn-pod. It echoes its comrade's cry, takes a step back and divides into two smaller versions of itself.

Mako blinks and freezes for a second in spite of herself. _It can't be!_

"Rangers, report, we're getting two readings, but the breach shows no movement!"

"It just…divided!" Raleigh replies, as they try to run even faster. "Tell Chuck and Herc to get out!"

"What do you mean, it divided?"

Mako scans their diagnostics. We're low on ammunition. We're going to have to take it down with the sword.

"Like a lizard tail!" She can feel Raleigh's urgency feeding her own as they plow through the waves. "Except the whole thing. Like a cell that divided. Replicated! We need to get the others out."

Striker is sandwiched between the two kaiju, sparks scattering everywhere. They catch sight of Cherno cutting through the waves, perpendicular to them. Cherno is closer than they are to Striker, but still too.

"Negative. They're too far from the shore for extraction," the Marshal's voice is tight. "We'd lose them and risk another crew."

"Then call Cherno back!" Raleigh turns to Mako. "How much ammo do we have?"

Five rounds. She runs the numbers again. At this distance we won't hit it. Not from here.

"We don't have to."

They keep running, firing in the general direction until the clip runs out. The blasts distract the kaiju, long enough for Cherno to arrive. Cherno gets to work, crashes its charged fist against one of the creatures, sending it sprawling back with a screech, the electricity making it glow. Cherno forcibly pulls the other creature off Striker, flinging it away in their direction, but still too far for them to engage.

Cherno pulls Striker up. Even from this distance, Striker's breastplate shows heavy damage. It's partly ripped and the Jaeger stands unsteadily, Cherno propping it up. The Russian Jaeger begins moving them both towards the shore, pulling Striker from the back. The creature nearest to the Gipsy stands and roars, ready to launch itself in the direction of the two Jaegers.

It'll land on Cherno, Mako works out. It'll use its own weight combined with Striker's against Cherno. Mako clenches her fist, feels Raleigh's determination interlinked with hers as she focuses on running harder, gaining impulse, and -–jumps-

There's a moment of weightlessness, then the impact jars her to the teeth. The kaiju wails, pinned in place by the Gipsy, it wails harder when the Gipsy's blade lights up, the charge of the sword shocking it with its charge. The monster turns around, and they knee it in the head.

"Wait!"

She's not sure whether Raleigh's really spoken outright, but there's no time. Mako pulls out the blade, and swoops it down, cleanly slicing the monster's leg off in the process. It hisses from below, and spits out acid at the Gipsy's arm and the blade.

The sting of the burn sears through her consciousness and she almost falls back screaming. It's more painful than anything she's ever felt. It wrests her breath away.

"Mako, Mako! Stay with me!"

_Easy, easy, easy_, she hears him in her head, louder than his voice. The pain recedes. Not much, but it becomes tolerable. She breathes shallowly.

We lost our last weapon. She thinks that the creature is half-dead anyway, but—

"Not dead enough."

Raleigh reaches for the kaiju's severed leg, and they bring it down against its head over the white-hot blast of pain in her burned arm. Again and again, they slam it down until she feels the give of bone below and the creature stops moving.

"The second!" The other kaiju surfaces several miles away, quickly approaching Cherno and Striker, heading towards the shore.

It feels like a reflexive motion, mainly Raleigh's – a quick extension of the right arm. She shifts her left leg forward and the arm swings. Release.

They hold their breath until the severed leg hits the beast over the head. What used to be half of Tengu falls, skidding to the coast, landing on its stomach before the Cherno Alpha. It opens its mouth to let out a defeaning cry-

Cherno brings down its spiked heel on the kaiju's head.

"So you sliced its leg off and then you bludgeoned it to death with it?" The younger Hansen can't keep the grudging admiration off his voice. "Now, that's just fucking barbaric."

Raleigh chuckles. "You didn't ask us here to discuss the humane killing of kaiju, did you?"

Hansen lets his head fall back on the pillow and Mako catches his wince. She's certain he's the worst patient in the Shatterdome. Several broken ribs, some of them even perforating the lungs, and both Hansen and his father are lucky to be alive. The elder Hansen drifts in and out of consciousness, but is stable at least. Their Jaeger is not as lucky. Striker will be out of commission for a while.

Only two for now, she thinks wearily. During the sleepless nights since the mission, it's all she can think about. It's been two days since the attack and the unease has returned with a vengeance.

"No," Hansen replies grudgingly. "I thought that it might be a good idea to say good job." He juts his chin out with his usual swagger. "You know, before both of you get killed."

"Nice." Raleigh nods as if that remark is exactly what he was expecting.

"We appreciate your concern, Mr. Hansen," Mako says.

Raleigh leans forward on the hospital bed railing and juts a finger at her. "She. She appreciates your concern. I still think you're an asshole."

"No," Mako corrects him. "I think he's an asshole too. I'm just being polite."

"Well, aren't you two a sweet couple."

"You can buy me a beer," Raleigh retorts. "I'll even do you the favor of getting it for me." He looks at Mako and points at Hansen. "Mako, you want a beer? Chuck's buying."

She's about to speak when a choking feeling comes over her, the air being squeezed from her throat. The feeling comes more frequently now and she pushes it back with difficulty.

Raleigh is still looking at her expectantly and she forces a smile. "That's all right." She pretends to look at something in her notepad. "I should go," she lies over the chokehold on her throat, the clamminess of her hands. "Tendo's expecting me."

He looks at her skeptically. "This late?" He sighs. "He really is going to ban you from mission control."

She shrugs, wincing at the phantom burn of her arm. "Get well, Mr. Hansen" she says curtly, trying not to make her desperation to leave obvious. "I'll see you later, Raleigh."

He nods and asks Hansen something, but she's too busy running through her breathing exercises to make it out.

With her arm still recovering, practice in the combat room is out of the question, so she ends up sitting in her room, drenched in a cold sweat with her stomach clenched. Trying to shut off her mind, she watches the clock tick down the minutes, keeps herself still through sheer force of will and ineffectual attempts to control her breathing. There's still an image of the last kaiju in her head playing on loop. Dividing in two. Four. Six. Eight.

Two. Four. Six. Eight.

The feeling doesn't leave her until the morning.

The Marshal sends for her several days later. Mako knocks twice and waits for him to call her in. She does a couple of breathing exercises. She still hasn't gotten used to the build up of leftover adrenaline. It had taken weeks for the feeling to build up last time, and now, days…

"Miss Mori," he greets her with a slight bow of his head, breaking through her thoughts. "How's the arm?"

"All right," she answers, stepping in. "Getting better."

He gestures her in. "The nervous system takes some time to align. Same arm as last time?"

Mako nods. "I've utilized the chain sword in the last two drops."

"Maybe you're relying on it too much."

"Maybe." Mako bites her lip. "At the time, it seemed necessary for the kill."

The Marshal makes a noncommittal sound. "Regarding the last two drops – you've submitted the last report? The Kaidanovskys have submitted Cherno's report for Tengu and Charybdis, and since I won't be seeing Striker's for the present, I would like to see the Gipsy's. Science division has requested it as soon as possible for a better sense of this new kaiju mutation."

Mako frowns, making a mental note to make Raleigh do it this time.

"This was your third drop with Becket."

"Yes. We're … getting used to each other."

"You're doing well," he says and she smiles lightly, but feels there's something else. The Marshal goes to his desk and opens one of his drawers. He pulls out several sheets and turns them towards her, spreading them across his desk. Mako approaches tentatively, eyes drifting over the numbers and graphs.

"Simulator evaluations. Mission evaluations. Physiological stress response readings?" Mako looks up. The drift might be a mind meld between two pilots, but control keeps their readings and stats separate for debriefing and analysis. Her stomach knots in dread.

"The simulator evaluations are yours. The mission evaluations are Becket's. There's been some," he pauses. "…Irregularities in your combat profiles."

"Irregularities?"

The Marshal reaches for a set of sheets and hands them to her. She scans through them voraciously. Her eyes dart from the data to the identification numbers repeatedly. Her head snaps up, eyes wide, and she feels her pulse beating in her ears.

"They're switched," she says. "Misattributed."

The Marshal shakes his head. "I thought so, but the data has been double-checked."

"The risk assessment percentages…"

"They're the same as yours - in simulation."

"Permission to look at my mission evaluations?"

The Marshal nods and passes her a folder. It feels like looking at a different person. "This has to be normal load balancing," she finds herself muttering in Japanese. Her eyes go back down to the graphs under her fingers and she stifles the impulse to crumple the paper. "Part of the drift, two pilots synching the left and right hemispheres of the brain. It's normal," she hears herself insist in English. "In the literature, the drift causes the pilots to… trade. To approximate one another."

"You're referring to transfer function." She nods and he continues. "Ghost-drifting. But that happens after long term exposure to the drift and it's additive. Pilots pick up aspects of their copilot. It's not an outright exchange. Load balancing usually doesn't entail your copilot's combat profile supplanting your own and vice versa."

"Then is it a hardware problem? Maybe a problem with the interface-"

"I took the assessments to med bay. They haven't seen anything like it before either. Dr. Wu suggested a neuropsychiatric approach."

She scrunches her face skeptically. "A disease of the nervous system? But everything is fine-"

"Dr. Wu doesn't rule out the possibility of pathology." The Marshal sounds weary. "There is no record of brain imaging for Becket after his dismissal at Anchorage. We needed him here and I never asked."

It's her turn to shake her head furiously. "Raleigh is fine," she says firmly. "He is fully functional both in combat and outside of it. I trust-"

"And you?"

The question surprises her. "I have been examined, sir."

"Not since the drift has been initiated. What one pilot experiences in the drift can pass to the other. "

She takes a moment to process the information. "But even if there is an exchange, then there's still load balancing. We continue to be drift compatible. The neural handshake holds."

"For the moment. But nonetheless, it is highly unusual. And could have ramifications."

"You can't ground us!" It comes out harsher than she expected and she looks down. "Cherno is the only fully functional Jaeger beside us."

"I know that." He stands and comes over to her, placing a gentle hand on her back. "There might be no reason for concern. I've sent for Dr. Simran Malik, she's a specialist, formerly based in Lima's Shatterdome. We'll arrange some preliminary evaluations, so she can orient herself and begin to rule pathology out." The death grip on Mako's throat is back.

"I refuse to take unnecessary risks, Mako." His eyes scrutinize her. "Has Becket been acting differently since the drops?"

"No, sir." She forces herself to look at him steadily.

"And you?"

Every instinct screams to tell him. She wants him to know. He has to know that she's running ragged, that she's unsettled under her own skin. And maybe if she tells him, the tightness of her chest will ease up a bit. Maybe he can make it all go away, just like he did when she was a child. Maybe she'd be able to sleep.

But there's only a lump in her throat. "No more than I expected."

He nods, but stays quiet, as if expecting her to add more. She remains silent.

"Report to medical bay at oh-eight-hundred hours," he finally says.

"Yes, sir." She thinks he'll let her go, but he simply looks at her until she feels her resolve cracking. It's his way, ever since she's been a girl. He could always wait her out. Except she's not a girl anymore. It's her call. "Permission to be dismissed, sir."

There's something sad in his eyes, mingled with the concern, and she feels the lump in her throat return.

"Granted."


End file.
